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Chapter 31 - Fall Of The Unruly (CF)
Paralus raced through the halls of the Place of the Unruly, Clubbette by his side. The Clubbas were roaring like a wave, the Koopan soldiers who tried to stop them fell to their fists - the clubs were not needed to stop the flow of Clubbas determined for their freedom. Dawn light streaked across the sky in the tiny windows of the tower, as the growing mass became determined to leave no one behind. “We fight together!” Paralus roared, hearing the Clubbas roar alongside him, expressing their desire and support. “For the Clubbas!” The mass chanted, Paralus joining in with their revelry. Gamma and Mud were getting caught up in the emotion and intensity, despite not being Clubbas and having no stake in the proceedings. Elation seared through Paralus as he broke open the cage of his mother, on one of the lowest floors of the Place of the Unruly. The soldiers of Ludwig had long given up trying to suppress the Clubbas from freeing every prisoner from every cell, and were fleeing from the wrath of their once-prisoners. “I told you we’d save you!” Paralus said proudly to his mother. “Come and join us!” His mother took steps out of her cell, pride flashing in her eyes at her son’s deed. “So you did.” His mother took a look around the Clubbas milling around, the hundreds of them stretching far into the Place of the Unruly, those in the lead breaking locks, Gamma flitting above them as he weakened the locks as they passed by. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You were always the different one.” Paralus felt happier than he ever had been. It didn’t matter that none of them had clubs, it didn’t matter that they were weakened by the Koopas. This wave of Clubbas was racing out of the Place of the Unruly, the dam was breaking - their will could no longer be contained by the Koopas as it had been for half a decade. He was positive that the other tower was experiencing the same fate - the Koopas being flushed out, the Clubbas coming to the forefront. * Three ships. That was all Tubba had to work with. Once again, the mission would hinge on his ability to inspire the Clubban population to fight against the Koopas. Ludwig had been one step ahead the prior instance - reading his plan perfectly and using Tubba’s assembly of the Clubbas to achieve his own ends. Although the execution had been botched, Tubba could not guarantee that the Clubbas would rise with him. There had been no way to contact those they had left behind. Tubba could only hope they were alright, and Ludwig hadn’t taken out his fury at Tubba’s escape on them. It was a struggle to lead the crew, Tubba realized as the days slipped by after they reached Gusty Gulch - it would be suicide to dock at Gusty Gulch, where the Koopas had a strong naval presence with only three ships. They would dock further north. Tubba felt exhausted and old as he ordered the crew, the feeling of tiredness that had settled in during his transit at the Waffle Kingdom was exacerbated by every ache and pain he felt, especially those at the loss of Gonzales. He was thirty years old - with the stress he had had in his life, he may as well be half dead. There were no second chances anymore. Tubba knew it would be unlikely he lived past sixty. Already, scales around his snout were greying, and streaks of the colour were appearing in his hair, becoming more and more prevalent with each passing day. Tubba noticed the green ParaClubba Juranils fixing him with dark looks, but looking awkwardly away as Tubba returned them, curious. That was a problem waiting to surface, Tubba knew, feeling weary at the idea of confronting the grieving ParaClubba over Gonzales’ death. He knew that the ParaClubba blamed him, and honestly, Tubba felt she was within her rights to. It was Tubba’s fault. Gonzales needn’t have died. Still, he had to confront Juranils. Every member of his crew had to be bought into their cause - be it saving Mud, in the case of most of the crew, helping out a friend, in Kremstag and the Kritters’ case, papering over millenia old injustice, in the case of the few ParaClubbas, or liberating the Clubbas - Tubba’s goal. If Juranils would prefer to not fight, protect her and Gonzales’ unborn child, Tubba would not hold it against her, for he guessed if he was in her situation, he would prefer not to. “Juranils, look,” Tubba had said resignedly as he took the ParaClubba aside. “I know it’s my fault Gonzales died,” he looked into her grieving blue eyes. “I understand if you don’t want to fight. I won’t hold it against you - say your mind.” To his surprise, Juranils had acted far from relieved. She reacted angrily, leering to her full height, which was taller than Tubba - a smaller than average Clubba.”I won’t abandon the cause Gonzales died for!” Juranils snapped, her wings rigid with tension. “Beside, who will lead the ParaClubbas? I need to be beside them. I’m not helpless yet!” She snarled throatily, causing Tubba to take an uncomfortable step back. It was one thing to be leading a resistance, and another to be talking to a soon-to-be mother. “Then what’s bothering you?” Inquired Tubba, before he had spoken louder, for Juranils had opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t bother hiding it. It’s as clear as day with those looks you’re shooting at me.” Tubba had braced himself internally for the lecture: he could hear it internally already. “Gonzales didn’t have to die! You lost him in an unnecessary battle!” But he had not been prepared for what Juranils said next. As he reflected on it now, he knew he should’ve seen the signs. His body had been telling him as much for weeks, months... perhaps even years. “Tubba, it’s really obvious... Gonzales was going to tell you, that’s why he said you’re oblivious - every ParaClubba and Clubba knows it, except you.” “You’re dying.” * Blizzerd spun around in the dry desert air as he felt freedom wash over him, feeling the humidity ebb into him, filling him with energy. The hundreds of Clubbas they had freed in their journey through their tower of the Place of the Unruly were just specks below, milling around the two towers of their prison. The other tower had been liberated as well, Paralus leading the Clubbas against the Koopas. Tubba might not have been there, but Paralus was proving to be an apt leader, marshalling the Clubbas as soon as they got out of the Place of the Unruly. He sent hundreds of them into the town, telling them to grab as many clubs as they could carry, arming the resistance that was forming. Secondly, he told them to call any Clubba who wished to take up arms against the Koopas, to reclaim the Gulch, to come out of their sandstone houses and stand alongside the liberated prisoners of the Place of the Unruly. The Koopas were falling under the deluge of Clubbas, those with sense hurtling back to the Clubba Castle where Ludwig would tell them to regroup, and set the plan to counter the resistance. That was why Blizzerd was floating in the air - he was judging how many Koopas were setting up stronghold in the Clubba Castle. He could say with confidence - it was far from enough to win a battle fought at the next instant, forcing them to regroup. Ludwig was no doubt sending for reinforcements from the Koopa Kingdom, but those would take hours. The Clubbas had four or five hours of freedom from the Koopas, where Paralus was increasingly becoming the symbol of the resistance. The orange Clubba had raced out of the Place of the Unruly’s second tower ahead of the rest of the tower, meeting Blizzerd and the other ex-battlers, and the tower that they had freed. Paralus’ eyes lit up with elation as he saw Blizzerd. “We’re free!” Punching the air with delight, the orange Clubba had turned to the hundreds of Clubbas pouring out under the weak dawn light. “We’re all free!” It was obvious from the moment Blizzerd saw Paralus that the large Clubba was in command, and the Clubba all the others were looking to. His imposing, tall shape, his confident gestures, his strong and concise words as he asked the Clubbas to do what he commanded were clear. He was the Clubba in command. Clubbette, the light blue Clubba who was Tubba’s half-sister, stood aside, watching Paralus with adoring eyes. Blizzerd had rolled his eyes - that was something that he had been and still was sure Tubba would not be happy with. As Blizzerd swept down to join Paralus and the rest, he saw that he was armed. “Let us take down the symbol of Koopan power!” Paralus shouted from a tall rock, the hundreds, no thousands, no hundreds of thousands of Clubbas that had responded to the fall of the Place of the Unruly bellowing their approval. With one swipe, Paralus swung his club into the base of the Place of the Unruly’s tower, chipping off stone. Steadily, the Clubbas began to follow the example of their leader. Hacking away at the stone, the towers above began to groan ominously. The towers fell to the side, rocks and dust billowing up and falling everywhere as they did, but they fell safely away from any Clubba. As the dust cleared, Paralus shouted: “We are the Clubba Kingdom! We are here to reclaim our land!” Blizzerd heard many of the Clubbas scream their agreement, but he heard one skeptical whisper, seemingly louder than any of the echoing screams. “We may want to reclaim the Kingdom... but what’s a Kingdom without a King?” For the Kingdom to return, the King would have to return. * Tubba felt the earth shake beneath his large red feet as they drew closer to Gusty Gulch. He had walked disheartened down to Gusty Gulch, from where they had docked north in the Mushroom Kingdom. Dying. Somehow, even though he had already known his life would be shorter... knowing that it was inevitably in his future, and near future... took everything out of him. Kremstag and Galmajo had had to take the reins, explaining that they would dock north of Gusty Gulch and walk as foot soldiers to the edge of Gusty Gulch, where they would camp, preparing for the inevitable battle. Juranils, and later, Galmajo, had explained the signs they had seen. His lethargy was just a side effect of a Clubba-specific illness, one that was rare, unnamed, likely genetic and had no cure. It would attack the body, aging it much quicker than it would naturally, before eventually, steadily shutting down every part of a Clubba’s internal systems, leaving them as a sentient husk, unable to observe, hear, taste, touch, eat... do anything that defined a living creature, until they either starved or died as their brain shut down. It would take Tubba in any amount of time from one year to thirty years. It sapped Tubba. He had failed in 2016, and the only thing that kept him going was that he had many, many years of living to keep his dedication to the Clubba Kingdom, to keep trying, no matter how many times he failed. To know that he could be dead in a year... there was no failure allowed anymore. It was now, or Tubba would be remembered to history as the Clubba who couldn’t. The earth shaking beneath their feet caused everyone to glance up, if they hadn’t been already. Gusty Gulch was in visible range, and approaching from the north meant that they could see the Clubba Castle and the Place of the Unruly very clearly, with the sea off to their left. His heart sinking, Tubba realized that the Place of the Unruly was no longer visible. “It’s... gone...” Dibby gasped out next to him. The Place of the Unruly had tumbled from the sky - Tubba could hear the remnants fall, a dust cloud swarming around the site. This was Ludwig’s revenge. The Koopa King knew that Tubba, the last resistance of the Clubba Kingdom... was approaching. He would take out the entire tower, to sap the last of resistance from an already defeated Clubba. Tubba had nothing. His friends were dead. He was going to die. Fury pounded through him, simultaneous with exhaustion. It didn’t matter anymore, if he was caught and bound. Ludwig had to pay, and it didn’t matter if Tubba was killed in the process. Racing ahead of the group, suddenly throwing caution to the winds, he felt the rocks and grasses of the rough path they were traversing on steadily turn to sand, before he raced out onto the sands of Gusty Gulch. His birthplace. Having faith in himself to remain unspotted, Tubba swerved between the houses as he made his way to the Place of the Unruly. Ludwig would surely be there, gloating over his victory. Tubba would get him, here, now. He could hear hundreds of voices, thousands of voices, all of them screaming incoherent determination. It made anger sear through him. Then, he saw. Expecting to see an amassing of countless Koopas, gloating over the place they had fallen to kill the Clubbas inside, instead he saw a collection of countless Clubbas, gloating over the place they had fallen to bring down the symbol of Koopa dominance. Paralus stood on a rock, clearly visible above the incalculable heads, shouting words of defiance to the crowd, brandishing his club with a purpose. “And would you look at that!” Paralus shouted, locking eyes with Tubba, who was feeling determination, perseverance, happiness and pride surge through him, driving his stature up, banishing all the deflated emotions he was feeling away. “The King has returned, too!” As the Clubbas realized he was present, and began to swarm around him, chanting his name, chanting the glory of the Clubba Kingdom, Tubba felt as if he had never felt like the Kingdom had hated him as a child, and thought Chubba would be the better King. It didn’t matter anymore if he died, sure, Tubba reflected, feeling his energy echo back into him. To a Clubba who had nothing to lose... the Kingdom would be a good parting gift. He couldn’t have ever imagined losing faith, as he had before. They would reclaim his Kingdom, even if he wasn’t the King to lead it.